Fault or Fate
by thelast.thingido
Summary: "Fault or fate, I'll never be free of either one. So, you'll never be free of me." Companion piece to Mine Alone to Hate . Snow POV . Snow/Regina
1. Death or Exile

AN: This a sequel to Mine Alone to Hate. It's more of a companion fic, placed in Snow's POV. It's going to be maybe six or seven chapters, and it takes place along with the story. I didn't re-write any of the chapters in a different POV, because that did not seem appealing of an idea at all, but this is more of an 'in between' of what you've already read. The tone and style of writing is going to be different because it's Snow and not Regina. Obviously I don't own you, so you don't have to read Mine Alone to Hate before reading this, but it might help, because we kind of just jump right in with this ;)

This starts with a flashback chapter, and I know the first couple of chapters are short. The length will fluctuate probably, but I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think! :)

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><p>"<em>Fault or fate, I'll never be free of either one. So, you'll never be free of me."<em>

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><p>"Would you like to hear a story?"<p>

I felt her stirring next to me at that, just when I thought she had gone to sleep. Though she never would, not while I was in her bed. She would never allow such weakness.

"It is too late for stories, Snow." She said, speaking of the time of day, but her tone meant otherwise. Regina sat up in her bed, her back facing away from me. The nightgown she wore hung loosely around the curves of her body, a strap of silk material falling off of her shoulder, and I wanted to kiss the skin there, but I stayed on my back, knowing she wouldn't allow for it.

"It's early still." I argued softly, even though the moon was high, and sleep was quickly gripping me. I only wished she would let me stay a little while longer, just to let the afterglow of my pleasure fade completely before being sent away into the cold hallway. Sent back to an empty bed. I knew why I couldn't stay the entire night, I just wished for a little while longer.

Regina stayed quiet next to me, the muscles in her back flexing as she sat up straighter, her long hair cascading down her back. She was so beautiful like this. She was so beautiful like anything, but like this, it was the closest thing I ever got to seeing her guard down around me. Even then though, the walls were taller than the tallest castle in the land.

"Once upon a time there was a son, born of a King." I began, since she stayed so silent. Her shoulders tensed at the start of my speaking, but quick enough I saw her body relax and her head turned to the side to watch me from the corner of her eye. I could see the light of the moon outline her profile, so I leaned up on my elbows to get a better view of her face. The sheets that covered my chest fell down to settle at my hips. "He was prophesied to kill his father, and marry his mother." Regina turned fully at that, looking at my face, but her sight caught on my bare breasts for a moment, and a small smile caught on my lips. I affected her far more than she would ever admit. "So, he was banished as a child, and left for dead." Her hand moved casually towards me, fingers catching on the sheet at my hips, and slowly she pulled it down, her eyes watching as my skin reddened at her persistent stare. Still, I continued my story. "Once grown he found his way back to his kingdom, but did not recognize it as his, nor the people in it." Her hand now at my ankles, moved back up to trail fingertips along my legs, thighs spreading on instinct, and she was pretending not to listen, but I knew better.

"Without knowing the sight of his father's face, he killed him, and without knowing his mother's face, he married her,"

As her fingers moved over my thighs, and along my hip bones, I laid back against the soft mattress, watching as she licked her lips just to tease.

"They loved each other and had children and were very happy as a family,"

My breath hitched and words paused when the wandering hand scraped a single nail gently over my nipple. Her sight was utterly distracted by my body, and for a moment I believed she really wasn't listening. I continued regardless, because there was a moral, and it was one I wished to tell her.

"When it was revealed that it was the king and the father that he killed,"

Regina bent down to hover over me, eyes on my lips as they spoke in shaky breaths.

"That he was the prophesied son, he was exiled,"

I felt her breath against my mouth, my eyes closed in preparation for her patience to dwindle with the story, for us to start our dance over again, from the beginning until the end of time.

"Despite his ignorance and naivety, the King's death was his fault…" I whispered, and no kiss came. My eyes opened to see her moving away from me, looking at me with an expression that was almost unreadable.

Something about my words worried her, and that worried me in kind.

Her eyebrows knitted together, the air between us grew cold, as she pulled away completely, standing from the bed and walking towards the large balcony of her bedchambers. Regina spent long moments looking out onto the sleeping kingdom, as I sat up fully, pulling the sheets over my chest, feeling very suddenly exposed and vulnerable.

"And the Queen?" Regina spoke quietly, lost in thought. "What of her?"

"She…" I swallowed hard and looked away. "She killed herself." There was no reaction to my words from her, so I quickly amended; "The moral though, it's about fate." Though the moral seemed lost on her by now, seeing only her own meanings in the words I spoke. I continued quietly, "Fate is determined, despite the lengths you go, how far you run." Her arms wrapped around her body, and it could have been from the chill of the night air. "You never escape it, because you can't change what's meant to be."

Finally Regina turned away from the balcony, walking along the large space of the room, her eyes glancing towards me for only a moment before speaking.

"I would have assumed the moral be not to share a bed with your mother." I felt my face flush and skin redden at those words, but her sight was elsewhere and the effect of her statement went unnoticed by her. Regina's movements stopped in front of her own reflection from a large wall mirror. "Therein lies only death or exile." Fingers traced the frame of a looking glass she had with her since after the wedding, all those years ago. The articulate designs of the framing always stood out against the other décor, which was the only reason I had remembered such a fact after all those years. She turned to face me quite suddenly, her features hardened and a mask in place once more.

And a look in her eyes, one she had more and more these days. One that led way to secrets and suspicion. Betrayal felt imminent in that moment, as her eyebrow arched challengingly, and dark smirk settled on her lips.

"Or perhaps both."


	2. All Over Again

AN: I'm really hoping to update in a timely manner, but no promises. I'm working on two other fics at the moment, because I enjoy overwhelming myself so that I'm set up for failure :) But really, I hope to keep on writing, so it shouldn't take too long. Leave a review and let me know what you think!

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><p>Sometimes we can stop. Sometimes, I don't call her, and she doesn't leave her house for days, almost weeks. It's a separation that tears us apart, but we pretend that it doesn't. I pretend to be happy with Charming and his soft kisses and gentle words, and she has nothing but hateful snark to give me if we see each other in passing.<p>

As if some unspoken sign that we were both finished and over with all the things of our past.

Sometimes we can stop, but we're never done.

Because eventually the day comes when I wake up feeling drained and angry, snipping at my family and drinking too much coffee. The day starts off awful and I know what it means, what I want. What I _need_.

Her. Always her.

Then it starts all over again.

And on those days, when I call she always answers. On those days if we see each other in passing, there's no sarcastic comments. There's only her dark and piecing stare into me, one that I can see from blocks away. She's quiet on those days, and so am I. Silent looks and nonverbal communication. That's how we always end up in these dangerous kinds of situations.

Like now, with my back pressed against the bookshelves in the back of the library, her body pressed into mine, the back of her thigh pushed into the back of her hand as it moves deeper under my skirt. I wore it for her, thinking of her as I picked out the black mini, and thigh high brown boots. It's not a usual look for my wardrobe, but I didn't feel like Mary Margaret this morning. When I woke in a sweat, from dreams of her, soaked between my thighs and _aching_, I felt like Regina's property. Lost and wanting to find its way back home.

At this moment, home feels like her crushing kiss that's filled with desperation and release all at the same time.

She likes the skirt, that much was made obvious when she first saw me in it, as she was leaving the diner not fifteen minutes ago. I was waiting for her a half a block down the road, pretending to read the paper near the floral shop, but watching her eyes catch on mine. The look was there, and so was about a hundred safer ways for us to do this, but damn this stubborn woman for not carrying her cell phone.

When she walked over to me, she stopped briefly, looking me up and down and taking her time to run the gaze up my legs. The muscles in my thighs clenched tight at her stare, and Regina noticed the movement. Then she was gone, walking away and past her parked car, causing me to follow at a leisurely distance. It was noon on a weekday, so I was grateful for the empty streets and sidewalks. I don't want to find out how little it would matter either way, with how desperate I was for her right then.

And desperate still, not caring when she led me into the empty library, Belle busy on her lunch break.

My body was so ready for her fingers as they pushed aside my underwear, and Regina made sure to tell me that much, before pushing me against the shelves. Now, her lips settle on a spot behind my ear, one she knows drives me crazy—because _she_ drives me crazy, sucking so gently, not enough to leave a mark, but hard enough for a moan to break out of my lungs. At the sound, my eyes open when I feel Regina's palm move to cover my mouth, but the hand between my legs never slows.

"Really, dear. Is it too much to ask that you stay quiet while I _fuck_ you?" A quick curve of her fingers, has me whimpering into her hand as my body tenses, so close, and so quiet while she whispers in my ear. It might not even be real words, because my ears are ringing from the pleasure she's pulling out of me.

"Such a compromising position that anyone could find you in,"

It never feels like this, not with anyone else, and I don't know if it's her experience, or simply my experience with her, but it's blinding the way this need for her hits me. Like a drowning flame that wraps around my body, and it takes her face, her smirk and sneer as I beg her for something that never satisfies—not in any kind of lasting way. But I need it, like addiction, like an ache. And that word—that _ache_—that's accurate. I ache for her in all the wrong ways, in all the ways that never satisfy.

"Is it _that_ good?" Her palm on my hand serves of a reminder for silence, and it's a good thing too, because sounds are threatening their way through my body. Begging and moaning, and I don't like being quiet, I don't like hiding and sneaking around, doing these dangerous things that hold so many consequences to it. I don't like the way it turns me on, having her need me to want her so desperately, that even fear of losing everything—for both of us—isn't enough to get her to stop.

"Do you want it so _badly_?" Regina's movements gain a rhythm that has a clear intention, my body starts shaking at the feeling, so quick—so close—my eyes shut tight and her hand against my mouth shifts enough to gently push a finger between my lips, and I accept the gift eagerly.

Then she's humming in my ear, and I bite at her finger without meaning to as I come hard against her hand, but she doesn't pull away. She just keeping humming and trailing wet kisses along my neck. The intimacy last for a few moments, because in the time right after, as my body shakes and shudders, she's never cruel. Regina just allows me all the attention I need and want from her, but only for a few moments. Then, it's always ripped away as if just to tease me with what it must be like if we were different people. So, perhaps it is meant to be cruel.

Once my body goes slack against the books behind me, my tongue moves gently along her middle finger, to sooth the sting of my teeth before she's pulling it out of my mouth.

"You're lucky I'm not still mayor, dear." Regina whispers softly, lingering longer than she needs to be, and I revel in it, brushing my cheek against her lips and smiling softly. "I would make it a crime for you to wear that skirt."

"I would spend much more time behind bars." Then I chuckle lightly, causing her to pull away and look at me curiously. "Or tied to them." My face turns red at my own thought, as I smile at her and think about last week and how she tied me to her bed, and it was like torture. Beautiful torture.

I won't think so in a few more minutes. The guilt will start then, her pushing me away and showing me all over again how foolish I am—how weak we both are for doing this all over again. And in a few days, we'll do it all over again.

Her eyes flash dark along with her growing smirk towards my words, but quick enough it's replaced with stone and ice, as she pulls away and starts adjusting her blouse and brushing out the wrinkles in her blazer.

"Why didn't you do this before?" I ask, just for something to ask, just to make this last a little while longer. Just to let the afterglow of my pleasure fade completely before being sent away into the cold. Regina's eyes narrow at me, confused. "When we were cursed? Twenty-eight years…" My voice faded, because it did sound like a lifetime, like an internal purgatory. It wasn't like that for us though, it was like a blink of an eye. I remember everything that happened, but it was easy because every day was the same day, so twenty-eight years felt like a single day. I wonder if it felt the same for her.

Regina raises her hand once more, trailing her thumb long the bottom of my lip.

"Mary Margaret had more self-respect." She replies with almost no sign of bite to her voice at all, only humor and a wink. It surprises me like nothing else. I figure my attempt at conversation would be rebuffed and trampled on, just like every time before, but there's no tense anger between us, not for the first time in _so_ long. My smile grows slightly, and I lean in to kiss her, due to my innate instinct to always push my luck, and as soon as I do, we both hear the chime of the library door sound, indicating someone entering.

Then she's gone, without a second glance, ducking away and out of the stacks, giving a tense and polite greeting to Belle that isn't returned and I hear the door chime again at her exit.


	3. A Hero's Fault

AN: The last chapter, and this chapter takes place between ch 6 and 7 of Mine Alone to Hate, just so you guys know. And I love the reviews, you're all so nice to me and thank you very much. I hope you enjoy. :)

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><p>Sometimes we talk, and it never ends well<p>

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><p>"Why do you come here, if not for love?"<p>

I almost smile, as if it's some kind of victory, her remembering conversations from weeks ago. I'm sure she thinks if she has me desperate enough, dizzied enough by her withholding, that I will just give her all her answers. Her efforts were admirable though, because _my God_ am I desperate for her tonight. I wasn't when I first showed up, I was sullen and filled with guilt, barely speaking, though her mood didn't allow for it. She was quick to tear at my defenses piece by piece, as if they were paper. As if it was the easiest thing in the world to do.

She's kissing me while she murmurs the question against my mouth, her hovering over me as I lie naked on her bed, the material of her shirt rubbing gently against my breasts, and I arch into the feeling. It's easy to forget about all the reasons why I shouldn't be here, about all my reservations and morality, when we're in the space that belongs to her, no semblance of my life lies within these walls, so my mind clears of everything but Regina.

"I thought you didn't care." Her teeth bite hard at my bottom lip, because there's a smile in my voice so she makes it a hiss from the sudden sting. She pulls back slightly, looking full of malice and mirth.

"Don't play games." Regina warns, and my hand moves down her chest and under the material of her open blouse, and there's pride in me that I managed to get it unbuttoned before she pushed me away and distracted me with other things. And I know I don't deserve her body, but it doesn't stop me from _wanting_ it. Desperately. It's something that consumes me most of every single moment.

"I'm good at games." I whisper, pressing my body against her as my hand lightly cups her bra covered breast, and her eyes turn red over blown out pupils, a sneer shooting across her face, because I push too far with her, I know. But it's an instinctual reaction, engrained into me from my youth. Because any reaction is better than none, any attention she gives is better than ignoring me, closed off inside herself, for days and weeks, and she would go _months_ without speaking a single word to me, and it made me starving for her.

Regina sits up suddenly, her skirt riding up as she straddles my hips. Her hands smack away mine when they reach for the exposed skin of her thighs. She moves her hands then, over my hips and ribs. Lightly until a single nail settles in the valley between my breasts. Regina presses it into my skin, her eyes rapt in attention to her action, dragging the nail down my body in a straight line. As if she were preparing to cut me open, leaving an angry red mark in its wake. She always did like me in red.

She speaks as she drags the nail down my body, making me squirm and bite my already swollen lip.

"As am I, dear, but you will not enjoy my games."

"And yet here I am." I whisper.

Brown eyes snap to meet mine.

"Why?"

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><p>"David was calling for you." Red says as a greeting when I walk into the diner, the 'closed' sign is displayed in the window, but she leaves the door unlocked, expecting me.<p>

"What did you tell him?" I ask absently, as I hang up my coat and make my way over to the counter where she's pouring a cup of coffee.

"That you were doing something other than what you were doing." She says with an arched eye brow and the slightest hint of an accusing tone, while I sit down on a stool in front of her. Despite the fact that she hates what I'm doing with Regina, her loyalty always lies with me, not David.

Though it only takes a few sips of my coffee before she asks.

"Do you think he knows?"

Because something like this would seem obvious to Red. She knew the first time, and it was mostly because of my own stupidity, walking into the diner to meet Emma not even an hour after Regina staked claim in me once more against the wall of her office. Red smelled it all over me, and nearly dropped the tray of food she was holding when we made eye contact.

Being half wolf has its advantages, but she assured me that day, that this wasn't one of them.

"He probably suspects something." At least I wish he did, I wish he knew so I would have nothing left to hide. I wish I was strong enough to tell him. But denial is such a good defensive mechanism. It twists realities to make it something bearable, with control and comfort. It's a powerful thing. "I never told him about her, though."

"Why not?"

I sigh, in mild frustration.

"Because I know how it looks." My eyes meet hers. "How he would look at it—the same way _you_ look at it."

"That she was your step-mother, and she took your innocence?" Red states more than asks, her voice has a haughty casual tone. I know she's just trying to show me Regina's fault in this, but it only makes me feel more guilty.

"I gave it to her." I whisper, my voice thick with an unexpected emotion. The sigh she gives at that sounds like defeat as her fingers fiddle with the placemats on the counter.

"You're always defending her. You're just as crazy as she is for always blaming you."

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><p>Regina leans down with her eyes on me, and runs her tongue along the long red mark, over the muscles of my torso until her mouth settles between my breasts, and she bites at my collar bone before moving higher to my neck.<p>

"A hero's fault." I say, and it causes her to freeze above me, her breath hitting my neck. "It leads me to you, every time."

Regina finally raises, looking at me with a curious suspicion, a look she carried often when we were younger. Her mind's there now, I can tell.

"To be defeated by you." I kiss her lightly, raising up to meet our lips, before whispering against her cheek. "You won, Regina. Claim your prize."

And that may as well have been the greatest romantic gesture ever given, what with the way she _moans_ at the words, her lips claim mine with such _passion_.

It's not a lie, because it's been a long time since I came to her because of love.

I'm here because she is my fault.

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><p>"Have you talked to Leroy and the rest, about the caves?" I ask Red, trying to distract her from topics that go around in circles and to no avail. It works, her body visibly relaxing as she leans down on her elbows, and fiddles with her hands.<p>

"The fairies are still working, they don't know how much magic it will take, let alone how long it will take to get it." Not many know of the plan we set in motion, to find a way back to our land. And it's only kept that way, in case we fail in finding a way to open the portal.

"Right. We won't get a team together until we know more though." I say specifically, because she already is hinting that I should be the one who leaves. I understand that she thinks it'll be better if I'm away from Regina. I just know that it won't be, I know that it'll only be that much worse. I can't leave her, now that she's back in my veins, because every time she burrows in, more and more. Soon enough they'll be nothing left of me, only her.

I can't leave her and she won't let me go.

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><p>"…Please," The word is one of her favorites coming from my mouth, "My Queen." And that's her other favorite, because she's unpredictable sometimes, but those words work on her when I need them to. When I need her to finally finish my torture.<p>

"I think I can keep you begging all night, don't you?" I moan again and look down at her smiling up at me from between my legs. Her lips wet from their efforts moments ago, teasing me with her tongue but never enough to allow me to finish. Her mouth always drives me crazy, and my voice is already raw from crying out. "Fitting punishment tonight, wouldn't you agree?"

She thinks this is a punishment. She'll tell me it's mine, but I figured out some time ago, that being with me is just as much about her punishment. It hurts her to do this, to lie to henry, to tell him that she _tries_ and she _wants_ to be good. I make her want me more though, and the pain behind her eyes is something that she can't hide most of the time.

Regina hates what I do to her, and she needs me to hate it too, so she makes sure that I do—every time.

"For a hero's fault and a villain's fate." She says quieter this time, her hands gripping tighter to the inside of my thighs, nails digging in as she wraps her lips around my core and I'm crying out once more.

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><p>"I wish Rumple didn't hate fairies so much, he might help." Red said absently, and half joking, both of us brain storming about things we really had no idea about.<p>

"Yeah, in exchange for your soul, I'm sure…" I think about talking to Regina about it, but the thought quickly dissipates, already knowing what kind of reaction that would illicit. "And Regina's too stubborn to send us back home. It would admit defeat."

There's silence at that, and it's heavy. I look up at her and see her staring at me.

"…She's still using magic? Henry said she stopped."

I quickly try to amend, because I can physically feel her tense, wanting to overreact to my words.

"It's not a lot. Just sometimes—…" Her sight narrows, and I feel a blush running up my neck. "I see her use it."

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><p>The faint purple glow coming from her hand illuminates the dark space between us, as I stay lying on her bed. It moves over me, painlessly fading all the light bites and shallow scratches, making better the reddened and bruised skin. The light of her magic makes her look pale and sick, creases and lines, dark circles under her eyes shining as her energy depletes from healing me. It takes a lot out of her, I can tell, this land is not meant to sustain magic, so her powers are nothing compared to our old world.<p>

When Regina's hand moves over my torso, over the long red mark, I grab her wrist gently, breaking her focus and letting the glow fade around us.

"Leave that one."

She practically growls at the request, fingers wrapping in my hair and kissing me deeply, setting me on fire and causing us to start all over again.

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><p>"Jesus, Snow, does she use magic on you?" The waitress demands, shocked and disgusted, and my face is glowing in my embarrassment and shame.<p>

"It's not like that. She just…" I pause and Red waits, but my eyes break contact and look away, knowing that nothing I say will make this any better. "Uses it to cover the marks she leaves." I finish quietly.

"Oh, how silly of me to be worried." There's a heavy sarcasm in her voice, and it makes me roll my eyes.

"It's complicated." I swig the last of my cold coffee, getting up from the stool and preceding to collect my things while she talks.

"Yeah, it's actually not. She's a walking victim complex, but you need to stop trying to save her, Snow." I don't respond, because that is the reason why I do a lot of things, but it's not why I find myself in Regina's bed. Then Red says something that makes me freeze right before I'm about to step towards the door. "The last time you tried, we all paid for it."

And I look at her then, the meaning in her words are not at all vague. Because I had defeated the Evil Queen, once, hadn't I? She was tied to a pole and arrows ready to tear holes into her heart. Everyone knew of that, because they were all there for her public execution.

My weakness exiled her instead, and it was because of that she was able to curse us.

"I didn't mean it like that." Red whispers, obviously seeing the hurt and anger on my face from her words. "I just mean—"

"That I should've killed her." I interrupt, because of course that's what she means, but of course she won't say it out loud. Not because she's like _them_, or because she's like me, with some sense of moral superiority. She'd never say it because she's killed before.

"You were right not to kill her, Snow." She says quietly. "But what you're doing now. That's not right, and you know it."

Still upset and suddenly very tired, I only nod once and walk out of the diner.

Sometimes we talk, and it never ends well.

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><p>"I did love you, once." She freezes at the words, as Regina's sitting up in bed and facing away from me. Her hands pause on the buttons she's redoing, and slowly they drop and I see the back of her head raise to stare out the window. I did love her, but I couldn't possibly any more, not after everything that's been done, all the betrayals that can never be made right. And her cruelty, it was there then as well, so I don't even know what made me think it was ever love. I don't want to know, so I don't think about it. I dwell on those memories as little as possible, because everything will be so much worse if I remember. If I ever feel that again for her.<p>

"I never asked if you loved me." She replies with a crack in her voice that takes away from its cold indifferences.

At that, I have no choice but to focus on the memory, but just one, and it's not a good memory, it's one that was filled with betrayals, and secrets kept. And my father was murdered only days afterwards.

"You did…" I whisper, then felt the cold numbing feeling of her demeanor soak into my skin, making me roll off the bed in search of my cloths. She still won't look at me. "Once."


	4. Stupid Girl

AN: I'm done babying these next two chapters, because it was only making them worse. So sorry for the delay in updating. I'm just gunna close my eyes and throw it out there. This is a flashback chapter, which takes place pretty early on in the affair between Snow and Regina. Basically Regina is drunk, Snow is confused and there's a lot of insinuation and denial.

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><p>Stupid Girl<p>

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><p>My thoughts kept me awake most nights, and this night was no exception, as I laid in my bed and stared at the high ceiling and distant walls of the huge space of my room. For so long now, long enough for me to remember nothing else, my thoughts went to Regina.<p>

Even before the two of us had started this affair of sorts, I had her on my mind constantly. I tried to keep my distance from her, because I had assumed she hated me most of the time. It was something that grew more and more apparent the older I became. I annoyed her with my childishness and she looked down on my morality and judgments, so I did try to be better. Walk more like a lady through the halls instead of sloppy strides that would break out into a run. I tried to be proper during banquets and dances. I tried not to let my eyes stray along her form, but that was not an easy task, because her gowns were not ones that made such a thing easy.

And when she knew of my wandering eyes, she teased me with it. Every day, appropriate things turned into something filled with double meaning, when she would brush against me, when she would scold me with a click of her tongue. The first time she called me a 'good girl', dripping with lewd reference that struck my cheeks ablaze. I wanted nothing but to hear her tell me again, and again, until something else—something _more_ caused my wanting desire.

As soon as I thought to be driven mad by the little she would give, she always gave just a little more, just to keep me strung to her.

She enjoyed it too, I supposed, because why would one do such things if they didn't enjoy it? She enjoyed my attention on her, she enjoyed the way I would beg for her, and Regina enjoyed kissing me. She would never admit such a thing, of course, though I was proud of how well I was getting at seeing through the walls she put up. It was all I spent my time for, to be honest.

Regina knew as much, always noticing my daydreaming, and she would scold me for it. That click of her tongue as a single finger moved inside me. She would remind me, as I would moan against the sheets between my teeth, that what we did meant nothing. It seemed like a ridiculous sort of thing to believe, even if I would placate her in that sort of lie, because people did not do these things for nothing. I knew what I had learned, what men and women did in a marital bed, it was for love and family. Only those of the lowest degrees would do such a thing for nothing. And Regina was royalty, as was I. It was in our blood, so something like this, it would not be for nothing.

I hadn't understood what the words meant until one afternoon, not too long ago, I watched her, as she watched an older prince from another land take a particular interest in me during a royal visit. It was innocent enough, the way he smiled in a charming sort of way, just as all princes were, simply charming and literally nothing else. Regina wasn't charming though, she was fire and passion. Her mouth would scorch my skin, and her desire would tear me apart. And on that night, it did just that, particularly so, talking of the prince in a way that could only be born of jealousy;

_I could see it_

_When his eyes were on you_

_What he wanted to do to you_

Or maybe it was fear.

She spoke no more of it though, only kissed me roughly as she pinned me to my bed, stripping away the remnants of such an exhausting day, leaving nothing else but the feeling of her against my body.

She told me again, what we did meant nothing; that only a man could give me worth.

And for the first time, I understood that it really did mean nothing. To them. To princes and Kings and men. This would be nothing to them, because it wasn't about them. It was about us. These things we did, they weren't for nothing. No one gives someone their body, and the other their trust—for simply nothing. Regina could die for what she was doing with me, even I knew that, and if what we did together was known—…She wanted me more than she feared the risk.

This thing we did—this self-destructive act of passion and desperation—it wasn't for others to know about. I was a princess of virtue to literally everyone around me, always protected and kept away from the world, but to her, I wasn't some innocent thing to be protected. She saw something in me that other's didn't, something mature and dark, something that I saw in her as well. Something that bound us together.

My thoughts were only of her, and most of the time, it drove me crazy, except for the few times of calm, when we would lie in my bed together. I wished for that now, as I always did, feeling the sheets cold around me, but my skin was heated from my running mind. I thought about the first time we were together, how she had barged her way into my room, interrupting a fantasy to give me so much more than I could have imagined. And I fell so easy into her eyes and her voice, just as easily as she fell into me. I shifted on the mattress, considering the time of night and if I should wait for her to come here, or if I should take care of the ache myself.

My hands were fisting into the material of my nightgown when I heard a knock on my door from across the room, and I immediately tensed, and sat up quickly. Of course I had been thinking of Regina, because I was expecting her, but she never knocked. It would draw unnecessary attention to my room by someone in hearing distance. I knew it wasn't her, and so for a moment I said nothing, as the door opened, a guard entered, his head facing to the side and far away from where I was lying. It was entirely inappropriate, and there was fear along with concern about any tragedies that may have happened.

"Your highness, the Queen has sent for you." His voice gave nothing away, and only had a quiet tone of respect.

A blush set my face aflame, though he didn't see it.

"Is everything alright?" I asked, not knowing what else to say. Maybe she was injured or with my Father, or a hundred other reasons for her to call for me at such an hour. Reasons that didn't seem so obvious.

"She awaits in her bedchambers." Is all he responded with before he left the room with a swift turn of his shoulders, and shut the door silently behind him.

Quickly, I was out of bed, grabbing a light robe that was too warm even for the late hour, but it covered the sleeveless nightgown I wore. When I walked out of my room, the guard was waiting, as I knew he would be, and silently we made our way down the long hallway, his eyes forward the entire time. Guards were usually mindful of privacy, and rarely asked questions. They were mostly men of war, not gossip, yet it was still a dangerous thing for Regina to do.

When we reached the large wooden doors to the Queen's bedchambers, he opened it for me, and I looked at him curious.

"Will you be posted at this door all night?"

"Per the King's orders." Came his monotone response, the door still ajar but I didn't move.

"Yet you left this door to find mine." I did not have a strong tone when I said it, it was more confused and timid. Though the words sounded accusing, and I knew they did as soon as they were said. The guard looked at me then, no expression of a reaction crossing his face, but he looked directly in my eyes, and I gasped quietly before I was able to stop myself. The action was an accusation as well, so I turned my sight away, and quickly moved into Regina's room, the door shutting behind me.

My eyes immediately searched her bedroom to find her, but really her room would have been more considered a wing, the space granted to her was large. Yet my eyes caught on her pacing by her dresser, looking so trapped. She looked that way often, when she thought no one could see. Sometimes, I wondered what it was that even kept her here, if she was so unhappy, and rarely I wondered if it was me that tied her here. It was both an appealing and terrible thought.

There was a moment I scanned our surrounding in a cautious curiosity. I had been in her room before, a few times throughout the years, but it was always made clear that I wasn't very welcome in her personal space. Not like she was welcomed in mine, so when we would be together in the late hours, it would always be in my room.

I started walking towards her, watching her stop by her dresser, and after I got closer, I saw her drinking from a glass of wine, the bottle sitting next to where her cup was. My sight caught briefly on her bed, slightly unmade, but I tore it away, worried more about her than the state of her bed.

"Regina? What's wrong?" I called to her quietly, coming up behind her. She was in her night gown, one that was royal purple, long and silk, hugging every one of her curves tightly, and Regina's hair no longer tied up as it was during the day. Her back was to me still, facing the vanity, the mirror attached to it only showed me part of her body. One arm was wrapped around her stomach as the other was raising the wine to her lips once more.

I said her name again, and she finally turned towards me, and I was taken aback by it. There was a terrible upset on her face, her features cold and her eyes reminded me of something broken and shattered, blood shot and black.

"Were you crying?" Was my quick and rushed response, taking a step to her, with my hand raising to reach out for her, but Regina saw the move and took a quick step back, smiling at me in an oddly forced sort of way.

"Only for a moment, when I thought to be out of wine." She raised her glass with that lopsided smirk, tilting her head towards me as if in cheers. "I found more."

I started to chew on the inside of my cheeks out of nervousness, because she was making me terribly worried. There had never been a time before that I had seen her in such a way, so undone and distracted.

"It was dangerous for you to call me here." I started to say as she turned her body back to the vanity, filling a glass that was barely drank from, then taking a generous sip. My words cut out when I hear the edge of indictment in them, because it was not intended. "I don't mind," I tried for a small smile that she wasn't even looking at. "But if the guards were to talk—"

"Or if you were to talk less." Regina snapped at me unexpectantly, turning sharply towards me, glass forgotten on the dresser. "Secrets are only known when spoken of." She said such a thing, as if blaming me. Her voice was hard and angry in a quick second, and terribly accusing. I had no idea what I had done, how I had offended her in any way. She called for me, and I had been proper all week. At least, when she wanted me to be. Yet, Regina was watching me with fire in her eyes, and a hatred that I saw on her face sometimes when we were in bed together, when her mind would go elsewhere and it took a gentle touch or a soft moan to bring her back.

I assumed why I was here, and since the silence was growing heavy between us, I did what I thought she wanted. A nervous blush ran up my neck as l shrugged my robe off of my shoulders, letting the material fall and pool by my feet. My hands raised to the ties of my long and white night gown, and started pulling them apart. Before I barely had a single knot undone, I saw her close the space between us and cover my hands with one of hers. Regina's fingers were ice cold, her hand shaking slightly, but the touch was gentle and when I looked up to her face, the hate in her eyes were gone.

"Not tonight, dear." Her hand moved to brush the back of her knuckles along my cheek, and the cold caused me to shiver but I leaned into the touch regardless, wishing to warm her any way she would allow. "Fear my wrath tomorrow."

I was about to ask what she wished of me then, and in my naivety, I wondered if there was anything that I would deny her. Instead though, I lost my voice and nerve as she pulled away and back to her vanity, taking the glass of wine back in her hand. Another generous drink along with the eerie silence, started to make my skin itch.

"Regina…" My voice held little strength, but it seemed to grab her attention, turning her head in my direction with a different look on her face.

"What are you doing in my room?" Regina asked suddenly, looking me over slowly. "It's late."

My face twisted up in confusion, because she was the one who had sent for me. I almost told her such, only pausing to wonder if I had imagined the exchange with the guard, or would he possibly sent me on his own—I opened my mouth to question her, to wonder what kind of game she meant to play. Yet when I studied her face, as she studied mine, I saw a genuine confusion, and not only that—but there was a distance in her eyes, one that was far away and I had seen it often when she was with me, but never like this. I doubted she even knew where she was at the moment. I always caused that look—being with me caused it—but I knew that wasn't the case tonight. The air in the room around us felt odd, cold in a way that had nothing to do with temperature, and I crossed my arms against the chill that shouldn't be on my skin. Something felt different and wrong, even the smell surrounding us. It wasn't so much a musk, but maybe—

I cleared my throat and cleared my mind. Quickly shaking my head and focusing on Regina.

"…I…I couldn't sleep." I pushed my thoughts down until it all grew blurred around her form. The small smile I offered her wasn't returned, as she shook her head lifting the wine towards her mouth, only pausing halfway to speak.

"You'll find no rest here." She said, sounding more drunk by the passing moments. My hands intercepted her drink as Regina raised it once more, gently taking it out of her grasp. There was a glare shot my way, but besides that, no other protest was given.

"We could try." I placed the drink back on her vanity and took her cold hands in mine, walking backwards slowly. "Just lie with me, for a little while." There was no way I could just leave her alone, not in her state. There was worry she would drink too much, or hurt herself even. She was relenting slightly, walking with me and carrying a suspicious look on her face. "I won't stay long." I assured, reaching the edge of her bed. Her eyes darted over my shoulder and then darkened, making me quick to place a hand on her cheek, carefully leading her sight back to me.

"My Queen." After the compliment was whispered, she almost smiled and let me lean in to kiss her.

Despite feigned disinterest and emotional walls, she did enjoy kissing me, so that was what we did for a while. Until we were both lying on the bed side by side, our lips swollen and out of breath. She never allowed this before, this intimacy, one without dominance, and I knew that she would most likely never allow it again. So I enjoyed it for what it was, and didn't even consider taking it farther than this.

The need for breathing caused breaks, until Regina no longer moved back in to keep the taste of my mouth on her lips. She watched me, her fingers running through my hair, and I watched her eyes flicker with different emotion, deciphering each one and categorizing it in my head.

"You're so beautiful." She said suddenly, her voice sounded lethargic and soft. "You'll make a husband very happy one day, for looks alone."

"There is more to me." More than just a pretty princess that sought attention. I was smarter than they thought of me, I was brave, and I still climbed trees when they weren't watching.

A small frown settled on her lips at my words though.

"I dare you to find a man who cares." She replied as if so sure of that to be an impossible task, and I felt indignation rise up in me.

"And if I did?"

"I would kill him." She murmured absently, as if speaking of the weather, her eyes half open and hand still stroking the long curls of my hair absently. I watched her for a long moment, not sure how serious she was being.

"For finding him, or for proving you wrong?" I finally asked, gauging her reaction, but it was barely there, only a slight narrowing of brown eyes.

"Maybe just to have one less man in this world." And at that she smiled a sad kind of smile, and it suddenly made me want to change the subject.

"Perhaps I do not wish for a husband." My voice was coy and flirting, as I bit my lip and looked up to her through long lashes, but she didn't react to my baiting, only looking away from my face and to her hand, as it wrapped itself deeper into thick curls.

"Then you do not wish for a kingdom." I didn't answer her, my thoughts trying to keep up with her verbal games. She enjoyed her words, and they were always calculated, always controlled and powerful. Not very often did I catch her off guard, regardless of how much wine she had. "What do you wish for? To live with the animals and eat berries and grass?" She said it with a distasteful tone, but I saw nothing wrong with it.

"That sounds nice." I murmured absently, and watched her eyes roll and attention on me dwindle, so it was quickly amended to keep her mind on me. "…For a bit. I would visit you, though." With a smile crossing my face, I reached up to take her hand from my hair, and held it between our bodies, tracing over fingers and knuckles lightly. "I would ride a white horse through the dark forest to find you."

"Whatever for?" My eyes met hers and saw her watching me with a teasing sort of way about her.

"Because…we could leave." When her eyes narrowed, I looked back down at our joined hands, suddenly nervous when I finally finished quietly. "Together."

"Those are dangerous thoughts, dear." Her voice was nothing but ice, and I felt it like a shiver down my spine, yet she didn't pull away, and her body had not tensed too much, so I tried to gain courage and hoped she thought me better for it.

"They are what they are though, and I see no danger in them." I said with a childish tone that I meant to sound firm and confident. But even I heard the pout in it, but all it did was cause her to sigh.

"Where would we go, you stupid girl?" I took no offense to the soft spoken insult. She called me that often, and it had lost its edge once she took it away, only used as a pet name lately. In fact, all it managed was to set me more at ease, looking back to her eyes with a glint shining in mine.

"Anywhere." My voice held a hopeful daydream in it. "Another kingdom, another land…" I gripped her hand tighter, voice lowered in an excited whisper, my mind getting lost in the dangerous thoughts. "I've heard of lands so different, so _vast_, that you could be anything you want. No matter your status…" Regina arched her eyebrow in and an unreadable expression crossed her face. My excitement faded as I sounded somewhat defeated while I finished; "No matter if you're a woman or not."

"Where did you hear of such things?" Her voice wasn't as angry as I expected, it was almost curious instead.

"I listen when they think I don't. There is more to me than beauty." The infliction in my words faded, as I watched Regina's face, as if mesmerized with the way she was studying me—how there was a glint in her eye that looked almost impressed. And she was so sad and broken when I first got here, and now her face was cleared from things that troubled her, if only for the moment that she was looking back at me.

Let her focus on me, I liked it better that way.

It felt right, just her and I on this bed, and nothing around us. Nothing pending, no husbands, and no happiness that was more prevalent at this moment, than her eyes on me.

And it may have been childishness, and I may have been a stupid girl, but I fell in love with her in that moment.


	5. Something Soft

AN: Well, this chapter is a roller coaster of emotions. I spent a long time babying it, for better or worse, so I hope you guys like it. A little warning, we're jumping into a Snow/David sex scene right off the bat. :)

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><p>David grips my thighs as I straddle his waist, both of us naked in bed, and taking advantage of the rare opportunity that we have the apartment to ourselves. My open hands press against his chest and hold him down as my hips roll against his, pulling him in deeper inside me. A steady pressure is building in my stomach, with my eyes closed and my mind thinking of Regina. I don't even try not to anymore. I think of just a few days ago and how it was her and I in this bed, pinning me down and claiming me in this space she has no right to. She did anyway, reckless and brave with those dark eyes that only come out for me. They only want me. She gave no care as to my status or my husband, and how dangerous it was to come into my home. She wanted me more. I washed the sheets afterwards, wracked with guilt and fear, but I still smelled her when I laid down that night. And in the morning when David left for the day, I stayed in bed and came against my fingers, thinking of her. She should've just killed me before she left the apartment, and I would've preferred that.<p>

I hear David moan under me, and I imagine its Regina's voice, imagining her in his place. Or even me, as she straddles my hips, grinding down, head thrown back in pleasure as she uses me. My hands grip tighter at his chest, and my hips move faster, angling just right with every thrust to cause the coiled heat in my lower stomach to shoot out through my body like electricity. Regina—_Regina_ coming undone above me—because of me—her fingers rubbing tight circles against her clit, and I follow suit of my fantasy, one hand moving between my legs as the other braces my weight against David.

"I'm close." I whisper, and despite me pressing down on him, he pushes up to a sitting position, feeling warm and strong arms wrap around my back, his hips moving fluidly with mine.

"Look at me." He orders softly, and I resist the urge to cringe, because my eyes have been closed since he first touched me tonight, and it was with purpose but not one he was supposed to notice. "Stay with me…" His urging is laced with heavy breathing and pain, and it breaks my heart apart. My eyes open and I kiss him gently.

"I'm here." I whisper, then he kisses me with more passion than I feel, and I try to keep hold of the feeling as his eyes look into mine, I try to shift my thoughts to him, all images of Regina replaced with his handsome and chiseled features. It doesn't work though, and I end up faking it, right before he finishes.

And he kisses me because he doesn't know. He never does.

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><p>I'm fine. Everything's perfectly okay, Emma and Henry come back home from a late dinner and I'm warm and safe in his arms, while he sleeps next to me. My prince Charming. Just as it should be. All the <em>okay's<em> and _wonderful's_ just build up and up, until I'm choking on the perfection. On the predictability of it.

And I need to see her.

And it's sad and pathetic, because I needed him just a few hours earlier, needed him because she's not answering her phone, and now we're in _that_ stage of the cycle again. She does whatever it is she does to forget me for a little while, and so I do what I do so that I can bare it. But it doesn't work this time. It hurts more, it builds up faster, a frightening speed, and my mind drifts back to the my youth at the castle, and the time I wore that red dress—

No. This is what started it to begin with. Her coming into my home—my space—and forcing me to lose myself to my memories of her. Those few good one's that hit me harder than every bad memory combined, and it's absolutely not fair. I'm better not thinking of it at all. I'm better not thinking of her, and just to be done altogether. The missed calls I already left on her phone is embarrassing enough, so I won't degrade myself any more than I already have. I still have a semblance of my pride, I suppose.

With a slight eye roll, I'm shifting out of David's arms and pulling myself out of bed to get dressed. I throw on a pair of thin jogging pants and a button up blouse. It's the middle of the night, but I don't care. I need to see her.

I decide to walk, because I hope it clears my head, but all it does is leave me with a chill by the time I make it to her back door. Regina leaves it unlocked now, no matter the time of day, because she'll never do something as weak as give me a key, but she made some off handed comment one time, how there's no need to be so polite, because not many people were strong enough to go against the former Queen, and those who were, wouldn't be stopped by a door. There's no hesitation when I walk into the entrance of her kitchen, already spotting lights on inside.

Once I finally spot her, it's in her living room. Every cabinet and drawer of every shelf is throw open, some thrown on the ground. My eyes are wide as they scan the destruction of just this room, papers skewed along the floor, some in the fireplace along with other charred objects that I can't make out. Every shelf and mantle surface is empty, and her back is to me, facing the weak flame of the fire. She's wearing a pant suit that I'm she hasn't bothered changing out of, the day's wear causing the outfit to look slightly disheveled.

"What the hell happened here?" I ask, a panic lining my voice as I take a few steps toward her, but she doesn't turn towards me, or really react in any way.

"I lost something." Is all that's given as a response, but at least it sounds annoyed and slightly angry, taking on it's signature tone towards me. All snippy and bothered by my existence, and I gently roll my eyes.

"What, your mind?"

"For quite some time now." Regina replies to the banter, and I notice she's holding something, but I can't see what it is.

"What are you looking for?" I ask quietly, wondering if her quip means that she's calm and sane, and really was just tearing apart her house for the sake of spring cleaning. There's no such luck of that, because once that question hits her ears, she tosses what was in her hand into the fire, none too gently, and I flinch slightly when I hear glass breaking.

"Not you." She turns quickly towards me, a smile on her face and a darkness over her features. I realize she's been drinking, and I regret coming over here immediately. Her drinking is my least favorite part of the times when we're together, and it happens more often than not, ever since the curse broke. It's been taking its toll on her, just like it has with everyone, and just like everyone, we all hide it in our own ways. When Regina's drinking though, she's unpredictable, she's distant, and maybe it's selfish to want her full attention on me, but sometimes it's better that way. "Yet here we are, always finding each other, aren't we?" Regina goes on to say, with a sarcastic tone, stalking over to me.

There's a darkness she has that I don't, one that has nothing to do with titles and tyranny. It's enticing, that darkness that surrounds her, like a shadow whispering pleasure and sin, and I fall into it every time, but the cost is high. She's at her worst like this.

Once she's in front of me, Regina raises a hand to grip the back of my neck, pulling me into her for a hard kiss. I keep up with her pace through my desperation, because even drunk, even _this_ is enough to make me fall apart at the seams. I just need her so badly. When our mouths break away, I'm already begging and she's already shushing me, her finger on my lips to silence me.

"Tell me why you're here." She always likes it when I talk, and if I don't, she will. The way she is tonight, I don't think I'll like anything she has to say.

"I was thinking about you." My head dips forward to catch her lips again, but Regina's teeth nip at them in punishment, her hands gripping firmly at my waist and holding me against her, guiding me, and controlling me, as I sway slightly with her.

"And what were you thinking?" Her tone would almost be playful, if it didn't sound so cruel. I rest my forehead against hers, and I ignore the smell of alcohol on her breath.

"I was thinking about you…on top of me," I whisper, watching her closed eyes. "Using me…" With a shift of my head, I catch her ear against my lips, placing a small kiss there, because I can't resist. "Riding my fingers..." A sharp hiss breaks through her teeth as her fingertips tighten and roll against the hip bones, in a gentle pulsing rhythm. I can't help but smile a little at her reaction to me. I can't help but push a little more, my tongue snaking out to trace the shell of her ear; "I love watching you come."

Regina's kissing me again at that, and my hands move up her arms and over her shoulders, arching to meld our bodies together.

"Did you think about that?" She asks, moments later when she breaks away to breath, and my body is on fire for her. I don't care about these games tonight. "Did you think about me coming, while you were fucking _him_?" She counters with a dangerous calm to her voice, and an absolute certainty that makes me wonder for a moment if she is taking to mirror watching again. And something about my face must show what I'm thinking, because she scoffs, and pulls back from me a little more. "I always know when you've just been with him. Something about the desperation—it feels…" Her hand settles between my thighs quite suddenly, her palm pushing into me and causing my hips to jerk against the movement, a jolt of pleasure throbbing its way through my body. "Different." Regina finishes, but I don't care, because she's right—I am desperate for her, just to give me a little chaotic stability, so I can feel something again—anything again. I lean in to kiss her as a confirmation, and for a moment, I believe she's going to kiss me back, but her head shifts away before our lips touch.

"I suppose you simply want the taste of him out of your mouth." A quiet sigh of frustration constricts on my lungs as she pulls her hand away. "Of all people, I can hardly blame you for that." Regina continues, speaking almost absently, lifting her fingers to the buttons on my blouse, slowly starting to undo them, when her words finally catch on my brain.

"What…" I whisper as my neck twists, pulling back from her. "What's that supposed to mean?" My whisper turns into a real question, one that she doesn't answer, she just moves with me, and continues her work on the buttons, looking down at her hands.

"So the princess didn't get what she wanted from her prince—turned out it isn't all it was said to be." My body stills, looking at her with an increasingly somber expression. I was right to think that I wouldn't like anything she has to say tonight. "You really should have known better, you should never have come here, offering me his sloppy seconds." My blouse is open now, and her movements are meticulous, and her face distracted.

"Regina." My voice is stern enough that it should bring her unfocused glazed stare back with me, but it doesn't. She doesn't even hear it, her nails and fingertips tracing over my collar bone, down the swell of my breasts and over the muscles of my abdomen. I don't know what her fingers are tracing, maybe old marks from years ago, or a knife's path. Whatever it is, she's focused on only that.

She's at her worse like this, unhinged and talking of the darkest parts of our past, because that's the only place her mind is at. It's not here, where she has control and power over herself, where she has Henry and people who care about her. And I know it's the magic doing it, I know well enough to see what dark magic does to a person, how it distorts things, it makes you see the worst in everything. She would be better without it, to gain some footing in her thoughts, but as it stands, I can practically feel the dark magic coming off of her skin. I don't know what she was doing before I came here, but she's saturated in it.

"Is it your own revenge on me, Snow White?" Regina asks, voice dark and thickened with an accent of our old land. I see her physically lose herself in a memory that I know she shouldn't be in. The urge to run out of this house as fast as I can is growing. My lack of reaction—my continuing to study her, only makes her angry, and she grabs my face with one hand, fingers pushing into my cheeks, gripping the underside of my chin. "All those nights I would call for you, after your father would have his way…" Red fills both of our sights and nausea fills my stomach, as my hand grips her wrists roughly the second she says it. "Just for something soft." Her tone is so dismissive and degrading, that I go cold all over.

"Go to hell."

We didn't talk about my father, and there were good reasons for it. So I purposely shove all those reasons, and the trauma attached to it, back into the boxes where they belong. Our memories of him were different, and that was something easy enough to admit, something I had known for quite a long time. And for her to bring him up like _this_, in such a way, after never speaking of him since his funeral, it makes me feel angry and dirty, cheap in a way that she's never made me feel before, and if that's all she equates it to—what we had—than she can burn for her insanity for all I care. I'll leave and go shower for three days. I'll leave, and we'll be done. Finally.

But still I don't push her away, and the anger fades from her face as it does mine. Regina's grip softens to cup my cheek, but still I don't let go of her wrist.

"Would you have killed him if I asked?"

"Don't." I whisper, closing my eyes tight when I feel them water. I know she's talking about my father. I know exactly what she's talking about.

"Not even for the promise of my body as a reward?" Her voice grows in volume and bitterness, I don't react as my brain tries desperately to compartmentalize all she was giving me, lock it away in boxes and keep it down where it belongs. My silence makes her angry though, because she turns her nails into the back of my neck sharply, and instincts tighten my hand on her. Finally, I feel stable enough to look at her again, opening my eyes. And the _hate_ that I see on her face. "That was all you wanted, was to own me—to claim my heart and mind and body."

"That's not true." I try to defend with a voice that sounds so young to my own ears, because I'm letting her pull me in again, so easily, letting her drag me down with her every time, down into this frustrating chaos, just for the sake of her broken words.

"I won't give you the satisfaction." Regina yells over my words, until suddenly her other hand pushes fingers roughly into her temples, cringing at an apparent pain in her head. I move just slightly, running my hand down her arm, to try to try to give her some comfort that she can never find with me, because she's jerking away violently once she sees the movement, breaking her contact with me completely with a few shaky steps backwards. "It's _your_ fault he's dead." She snaps angry and loud, and for a moment I think she's talking about my father, and a wounded anger starts to rise in me, because I know my fault in this, but I won't claim that. I refuse. Though, my hurt starts to dwindle when I see the tears filling her eyes, and the pain that's so clear on her face.

She's talking about Daniel.

"Regina…" I whisper, trying to reach out to her with the soft tone of her name, trying to break through the distance between her mind and the present. But she reminds me which part of herself I'm dealing with as her hand grabs my throat and pushes me back, and back, until I'm pinned to the wall behind me, darkness shrouding her face like a shadow in this room with us. The sudden act of violence has magic behind it, and fear grips me for a moment because as strong as I am, I don't know if I can break her bind on me.

"I'll kill you for it." She all but screams at me. "For all your betrayals, for all the lives destroyed because of _you_—" I feel her fingers tighten, and for a moment I think she's going to finally do it, and all I can muster is a prayer that they don't kill her for it. But then the grip loosens and I can breathe a little more. "You _stupid_ girl…" The strength in her tone is fading fast and her eyes follow the trail of a tear falling down my face and settling on her hand at my neck.

"My Queen…" I whisper, her grip not even tight enough to make the words strained, and I raise my hand to trace the knuckles of hers.

"Shut up." Regina snaps with a voice that sounds like she's drowning. Wet along with the mist covering her eyes.

"It's okay…" The hand resting on hers tightens and gently pulls it away from my neck slowly. "Please, just look at me." My voice is calm and collected now, and I see her cringe because she hates it when I talk to her like this. It's the only thing I know how to do though, when she gets like this. The calmer I get, the angrier she gets, but it's an anger I know how to deal with. The anger that comes from dark magic, and the insanity inside the darkest parts of her mind—I dare not tread there.

Let her only be angry at me. It's better that way.

"You'll kill me." I feel the tension in her arm tighten, and I think for a moment that her fingers will go back around my throat.

"I won't."

Regina looks down at our entwined hands, traces her thumb over the knuckles, and I want to watch the intimate act, but I don't because it rings hollow for the situation.

"You do, that's all you do." She whispers, drunk and broken and I feel more tears swell in my eyes. Then her arm drops completely, defeated and exhausted. "That's why you're here."

It's about all I can take, so I take some steps towards her, cupping her cheek with the hand that stopped her from strangling me just moments ago, and I pull her face close to kiss her firmly on her lips.

"I'm yours." The whisper is placed on her lips, and my arms are wrapping around her neck, as I feel her hands timidly encircle my waist. "I'm here, because I'm yours."

Regina's body starts shaking and she buries her head into my neck, so I keep her close, hold her tighter, and hear the quiet words against my skin

"I hate you…"

I'm shushing her, telling her that it's okay, gently begging; "Stay with me."

* * *

><p>Eventually we make it to her bed, I'm focused on keeping her away from the broken mess of the living room, and she follows me up the stairs pretty easily, even though she's eerily quiet, and when she does speak, it's not anything that makes much sense. I get her under the covers fully clothed, because she's waving me off when I even try to take her shoes off, mumbling something about her not being an infant. I just roll my eyes lightly as I watch her struggle with her sheets.<p>

"I don't condone sleepovers." Regina says quietly, when she sees me lie down on the bed next to her, half way on my side so that I can be facing her. Her voice sounds so tired, and I know she hasn't been getting much sleep since the curse broke. None of us have.

"I won't stay long."

There's a few long moments when we just watch each other in silence, until her bloodshot eyes narrow and she shakes her head.

"We're not meant to be together." It's said as if a new revelation, but fate has told me this since I was ten years old. "All we do is destroy each other." She finishes, and then again, I think that maybe that was what fate planned all along. We're better apart, but maybe we're not meant to be better, because I'm not strong enough to stop, and neither is she. We're just two destroyed people that are weak for each other. So I give her no denial, or conformation, I only watch her as she watches me, the blinks of her glossed over and distant eyes get heavier.

She won't remember this in the morning, or at least she'll pretend that she doesn't. It's hard to tell sometimes, because she says things to me, certain comments, and it makes me wonder what it is she sees when she remembers how we were.

Memories aren't very clear for her.

After the still settles between us, she whispers;

"You lied to me."

I don't trust my voice to ask what she means, not while her words hold such history to it.

"You said you didn't love me." Regina finishes, just as I feel tears fall down my face. I didn't even realize that they were there, but she could see them. She could see through me better than I could, apparently. I close my eyes tightly as she closes hers gently, and focus on anything else besides this feeling—this terrible ache of an old love for her. It's tearing at my insides, breaking me apart. When I finally look back at her, she's already asleep. And it's such a deceitful beauty, as peaceful and calmed that she looks as she lies there. Compared to the hurt and broken self she was when I came here tonight. Now, there's no hate on her face, and she was vulnerable tonight, more so than she had been in a long time—it has been _years _since I have seen her walls down so completely, and it feels like she cut me open, like everything was spilling out and pouring in at the same time.

I remember now, what it is that made me fall in love with her. I feel it surfacing just like it never left. Maybe it never did leave.

I roll onto my back, covering my wet face with my hands. I'm still in love with her, and this will not end well.


End file.
